Chapter 3 - THE PART THEY WANTED ON CAMERA
Tyler agreed to meet in a crowded coffee shop the next morning.
Claire chose the location.
Adrian was not invited.
He came anyway.
Not inside.
Claire spotted Victor sitting in a parked car across the street.
She called Adrian immediately.
“You promised no parade.”
“One person is not a parade.”
“Send him away.”
“No.”
“Adrian.”
“Claire.”
She hated how calm he sounded.
“Tyler is frightened.”
“So am I.”
That silenced her.
Not because she believed Adrian Moretti was physically afraid of Tyler.
Because he had admitted fear at all.
“Victor stays outside,” Claire said.
“He was already outside.”
“You're exhausting.”
“So I've heard.”
Tyler arrived ten minutes late wearing a baseball cap pulled low.
He looked like he had not slept.
Claire did not hug him.
Megan had begged her to.
Claire refused.
Some relationships did not deserve instant forgiveness because somebody finally told the truth.
Tyler sat.
“I’m sorry.”
“I know.”
“I mean it.”
“I know that too.”
He swallowed.
“I was stupid.”
“You were greedy.”
He nodded.
“Yes.”
That honesty helped more than excuses.
“Who is Mason?”
“His name is Mason Reed. He works for a company called Northline Reputation.”
Claire wrote it down.
“Lakeshore paid you.”
“Lakeshore paid Northline. Northline paid me.”
“Why?”
Tyler slid his phone across the table.
Messages.
Instructions.
Photographs of Sullivan’s.
The table Adrian usually preferred.
A note identifying the best camera position.
The plan had been simple.
Humiliate Adrian publicly.
Get close enough that Adrian's security intervened.
Tyler was supposed to escalate.
Shove Adrian’s chair.
Insult him.
Maybe throw a drink.
“They kept saying they needed a reaction,” Tyler said.
“What kind?”
“Violence.”
Claire felt sick.
“And me kissing him?”
“That was my idea.”
She stared.
“They told me to find somebody who would do something unpredictable.”
“So you picked the fat friend?”
Tyler’s face crumpled.
“No.”
“Don't lie.”
“I picked you because you don't back down.”
Claire laughed bitterly.
“You've spent years making jokes about my weight.”
“I know.”
“And suddenly I'm fearless?”
“I was an asshole.”
“That is the first useful thing you've said.”
Tyler looked down.
“I knew you'd do it if I called you scared.”
Claire hated how accurately he had read that.
Not her courage.
Her wound.
Somebody had used the part of her that still reacted to being underestimated.
“What did Mason mean when he said they were scared of what was recorded?”
Tyler opened another message.
AUDIO FAILED.
CAMERA THREE CAUGHT SECURITY HOLDING.
NO CONTACT.
Claire frowned.
“Security holding?”
Tyler nodded.
“Victor was supposed to grab me.”
“But he didn't.”
“No.”
Because Claire had stepped between them.
Because Adrian had said no scene.
The trap had failed.
Mostly.
Tyler scrolled farther.
Then showed her another message.
PLAN B MONDAY.
Claire’s stomach tightened.
“Monday is Adrian's board meeting.”
“I know.”
“You told him?”
“No.”
“Why?”
Tyler looked frightened.
“Because there's more.”
He opened a voice memo.
Mason’s voice filled the small space between them.
“If Moretti doesn’t give us the footage we need Friday, Vincent has enough internal people to make Monday ugly anyway.”
Claire stopped.
“Internal people?”
Tyler nodded.
“Mason said somebody inside Adrian's security team was supposed to make sure things escalated.”
Claire immediately looked through the coffee-shop window.
Victor sat in the car.
Tyler followed her eyes.
“Not him.”
“How do you know?”
“Mason mentioned somebody named Ellis.”
Claire called Adrian.
He answered immediately.
“Everything okay?”
“Who is Ellis?”
Silence.
“Claire.”
“Who?”
“Marcus Ellis. Regional security supervisor.”
“Can he affect assignments at Sullivan’s?”
“Yes.”
Claire looked at Tyler.
“Where is he today?”
Adrian did not answer.
Then:
“Stay where you are.”
“Adrian—”
The call ended.
Twenty-two minutes later Adrian entered the coffee shop.
Alone again.
His face told Claire this was no longer simply family politics.
“Ellis is gone.”
“Gone where?”
“He failed to report this morning.”
Tyler whispered, “Oh, hell.”
Adrian sat.
“Show me everything.”
They did.
For the next hour, Adrian did something Claire had not expected.
He listened.
No threats.
No shouting.
No dramatic orders.
He photographed the messages and sent them to his general counsel and outside investigators.
Then he looked at Tyler.
“You understand you may have committed crimes.”
Tyler nodded.
“Yes.”
“You need your own lawyer.”
“Yes.”
“I will not provide one.”
Claire watched Tyler absorb that.
Adrian continued.
“But if you tell the truth, I will tell the truth about your cooperation.”
Tyler’s eyes filled.
“Why?”
“Because I'm not Vincent.”
That answer carried history Claire did not yet understand.
After Tyler left, Claire and Adrian walked along the river.
Chicago wind pulled strands of her chestnut hair loose.
“Do you hate your cousin?”
Adrian shoved his hands into his coat pockets.
“Yes.”
She appreciated that he did not pretend otherwise.
“Why?”
“Because he loved my father’s worst habits.”
“And you didn't?”
“I did when I was younger.”
Claire looked at him.
“That sounds ominous.”
“It should.”
He stopped near the railing.
“When I was twenty-three, I thought being respected meant nobody ever saying no to me.”
“And now?”
“Now I know people who can't say no aren't respecting you.”
That answer changed something.
Claire leaned against the railing.
“You know what people think about you.”
“Yes.”
“Does it bother you?”
“Sometimes.”
“Why not fix it?”
“You can't run around Chicago explaining yourself to strangers.”
“I’m a waitress. I explain things to strangers professionally.”
Adrian smiled.
Claire continued.
“You're also very good at looking terrifying.”
“I've been told.”
“You could blink more.”
“I’ll consider it.”
She laughed.
He looked at her.
Not at her body.
Not in the familiar way men sometimes did when they were trying to decide whether a curvy woman should be grateful for attention.
At her.
Claire became suddenly self-conscious anyway.
Habit.
Adrian noticed.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“That wasn't nothing.”
She looked across the water.
“My ex used to tell me I was almost beautiful.”
Adrian's expression changed.
“Almost?”
“If I lost weight.”
“Idiot.”
“He thought he was motivating me.”
“Still an idiot.”
Claire smiled.
“You're surprisingly uncomplicated sometimes.”
“Don't tell anyone.”
The moment could have become romantic.
Her phone rang.
Danny.
Claire answered.
“You need to come to Sullivan’s.”
“Why?”
“Police?”
“No.”
“Press?”
“No.”
“What?”
Danny lowered his voice.
“Somebody broke into my office last night.”
Claire stopped.
“Was anything taken?”
“One thing.”
“What?”
“The backup drive with Friday's security footage.”
Adrian heard.
His face hardened.
Danny continued.
“But whoever took it didn't know I keep a second backup at home.”
Claire looked at Adrian.
For the first time all day, she smiled.
“Danny?”
“Yeah?”
“Do not tell anybody that.”
“I wasn't planning on it.”
Adrian held out his hand.
Claire gave him the phone.
He spoke to Danny for thirty seconds.
Then handed it back.
“What now?” Claire asked.
“Now we make copies.”
“Of the footage?”
“Yes.”
“And Monday?”
Adrian looked toward the skyline.
“We let Vincent believe the only copy disappeared.”
Claire felt a thrill of fear.
“And then?”
May you like
Adrian’s eyes turned cold.
“We find out what he thinks he can finally lie about.”
